


One Black Coffee

by lunchtop



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Other, Polyamory, Trans Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert, Trans Caspar von Bergliez, they/them and he/him pronouns for ashe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:48:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29090052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunchtop/pseuds/lunchtop
Summary: Ashe, Caspar, and Linhardt return home after spending the holidays visiting family.
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Linhardt von Hevring
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	One Black Coffee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jrzyboy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jrzyboy/gifts).



> A little something I wrote for a friend, for a Secret Santa exchange in our Discord server. We both really like this OT3, and I had a lot of fun writing them. 
> 
> Happy (late) Christmas? Happy late Christmas!

There were many aspects of dating two people that made a relationship easier. Splitting chores three ways meant more free time, and splitting bills three ways meant having more cash to blow during said free time. Between the three of them, someone always remembered to feed the cats, water the plants, to take the trash out to the curb on Tuesday night. Someone always knew how to fix whatever household appliance they managed to break, or at the very least, who to call about getting it fixed. There were always two (... four?) shoulders to cry on, when something went wrong, and double the encouragement, support, and cheers when something went right. Honestly, Linhardt didn’t understand why more people weren’t interested in such an arrangement.

Of course, there were plenty of drawbacks. Having three separate households to visit for Christmas, for example. One week on the road, just to make an appearance at every gathering possible. Dinner party after dinner party, uncomfortable guest room after uncomfortable guest room (not that they had any significant amount of time to rest, even if the rooms _had_ been comfy). Even Linhardt, who prides himself on his ability to fall asleep pretty much anywhere without fuss, finds himself craving the familiar lumps and squishes of their bed at home.

If it weren’t his turn to drive, he would have been asleep, sprawled out across the backseat and snoring. As it was, he had offered to drive the final leg of the trip - mostly because he had also wanted to nap on the day they left. It seemed like a brilliant idea at the time, but now…

Now, he looks over at Ashe, listlessly staring out the window at the snow-covered hills, and sighs. _I can never fall asleep in the car_ , Ashe had told them once. What a waste of-

“Hey, look!” Suddenly, Caspar’s head appeared between the two of them, startling Ashe and reminding Linhardt that his eyes were supposed to be on the road. “Look, guys! It’s a McDonald’s!”

Ah, sure enough, there it was - the lonely, garish red building stood out against the untouched snowy backdrop.

Ashe groans, rubbing his tired eyes. “Caspar, put your seatbelt back on.”

“Uh, yeah, right…” He mumbled, leaning back into his seat, and clicking the buckle back into place. “So we’re stopping, right?”

“No,” Ashe looked up at him through the rear-view mirror. “We have food waiting for us at home, and leftovers in the cooler. We don’t need to go to McDonald’s.”

“No one’s going to wanna cook when we get home,” Caspar insisted. “C’mon, Lin, let’s go to McDonald’s.”

Well, he did have a point. Linhardt flipped on the turn signal, and pulled into the off-ramp as the golden arches grew closer. Ashe’s groans could hardly be heard over Caspar’s victory shouts. Linhardt, for once, was thankful for how loud his childhood friend could be; even he had a difficult time, suppressing a chuckle, as he pulled up to the window.

“ _Welcome to McDonald’s, how can we help you?_ ”

“One black coffee, please.”

“ _Anything else?_ ”

“No, thank you.”

If the cashier read him the total, Linhardt didn’t hear it. Not that it really mattered. Seeing Caspar’s face in the rearview mirror, and hearing Ashe erupt with laughter in the seat next to him, was worth any price.

  
  


* * * *

Oh, right, they’d left their apartment a mess. 

Ashe hadn’t so much as thought about what they would be coming back to since he shut and locked the door behind him almost a week ago. At the time, there were too many other things to be worried about. Between packing their bags, wrapping all of the last minute Christmas gifts, giving the neighbor instructions for how to take care of the cats while they were away-

Ashe felt the blood draining from their face. Oh no. “The neighbor saw our apartment while it looked like _this_.”

Linhardt yawned, tossing his jacket, and empty coffee cup, onto the floor with the rest of the mess. “You didn’t think about that before we left?”

“You can’t just drop your stuff on the floor,” Ashe knew it was all but pointless to object, especially considering that Linhardt was already halfway to the bedroom. 

“Well… it’s not like it can get much worse,” Caspar shrugged, stripping off his own outer layers, and similarly discarding them. “Man, I can’t wait to get this binder off, and sleep in my own bed again.”

“Not you, too…”

“We can clean it up later,” Caspar said, as he shook off the final leg of his jeans. “What’s a few more hours, right? You coming?”

Ashe blinked; oh, this was new. “ _You’re_ napping, too? You never want to nap.”

Caspar shrugged, a little breath that turned into a yawn on the way out. “Being in the car is exhausting. Doesn’t it make you sleepy?”

“A little; I feel stiff, more than anything else.” Ashe rolled their shoulders, not expecting the loud _crack_ that followed, but it felt all the more euphoric, for the surprise. “I might try to sleep, but think I’m going to see what the cats are up to, first.”

Caspar nodded, and leaned in to kiss them on the cheek. “G’night, babe.”

Ashe smiled, enjoying how the warm feeling lingered on his face as he hunted down the cats. It wasn’t a particularly difficult hunt; Bella and Milo were predictable, and Ashe found each of them in their usual napping spot; the big, cozy chair in the office.

“Hey, guys,” Ashe whispered, kneeling down next to them. Milo opened one, sleepy eye at the sound of his voice, and began purring immediately. Bella, always eager for attention, was immediately on her feet, rubbing her face against Ashe’s.

“Aww, sweet baby;” Ashe cooed, scratching underneath her chin, before lifting her up. “I missed you, too.”  
Bella in tow, Ashe stretched out on the floor, feeling instant relief in his neck, back and shoulders as he relaxed against the cool hardwood floor underneath him. 

When Ashe opened his eyes, it felt as though only a few minutes had passed, but it rapidly became apparent that this wasn’t the case. Far from it; the sun that had been peeking through the blinds when Ashe closed their eyes was gone now, leaving the room mostly dark, lit only by the light from the kitchen, off down the distant hallway. The cat who had curled up on his chest was gone now, leaving plenty of black hair on his t-shirt. The previously quiet apartment was now full of noise; running water, dishes clattering, music that, from where Ashe was still sprawled out on the floor, only sounded like someone mumbling along with a heavy bass-

“Hey, Ashe! Lin! Dinner’s ready!”

Ashe hadn’t even noticed that the cat curled up at his side had also left… and now, Linhardt was in his place. He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. 

“What are you doing in here?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Same thing you’re doing; sleeping, wondering what sort of mess he’s made of the kitchen.”

Caspar in the kitchen… He isn’t the worst cook, as long as someone is around to make sure he follows all of the directions. With Ashe and Linhardt napping while he prepared dinner, Ashe had no idea what they would be walking into, as they emerged. 

Caspar had come up with quite the spread; three paper plates, covered with macaroni and cheese and dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets. Each setting was accompanied by a Christmas tree-shaped Hostess cake, and a wine glass full of chocolate milk. 

Ashe covered his mouth, barely stifling a snort. “What’s all this?"

Linhardt looked at the table, and then back up to Ashe. “Dinner, apparently. Though, I don’t know how much of this counts as _real_ food.”

“We’ve been eating fancy, healthy home cooked meals all week; we can deal with a little junk food. And besides,” Caspar gently poked him in the side, before sitting down in front of his own plate. “You’re the one who said we should eat the food we have at home. This was the food we have at home.”

“Ah, right, I did say that, didn’t I?” Ashe should have thought that through a little more; of course there wouldn’t be any fresh produce, and all of the meat and bread they had was in the freezer. “But didn’t you say that no one was going to want to cook at home?”

Caspar looked thoughtful for a moment, and then shrugged, stabbing at his pasta with a fork. “I guess I wanted chicken nuggets more than I didn’t want to cook.”

Ashe wasn’t going to argue with that; he had been the one who insisted on eating in, but he also hadn’t been too excited about the idea of preparing dinner. Caspar had done all of the work, it would be rude to complain. “The dinosaur nuggets taste better than the McDonald’s nuggets, anyway.”

Linhardt lifted his glass to his lips. “Hm, but I prefer their coffee to tonight’s beverage of choice.”

Ashe heard the thud of Caspar kicking Linhardt lightly under the table. “That was hilarious.”  
  
“Then why are you kicking me?”

“Because I’m still mad about it.”

Ashe sighed; the thought of leaving the apartment sounded like the worst chore imaginable, but… “Maybe we can go tomorrow for breakfast?”

Caspar made a face, and shook his head. “We have food at home.”

“Haha, very funny.” Ashe knew better; Caspar would be up for breakfast before anyone else. Ashe would be reluctant, at first, but once he started moving, the siren’s song of the McDonald’s pancakes would be more than enough motivation to get him into a pair of sweatpants and out the door. With Linhardt, they would be lucky if they could get him to mumble his order before he fell back asleep, and luckier still if they could talk him into going to the restaurant with them. If he ultimately did not make it into the car, Caspar would _insist_ on only ordering him one, black coffee. 

Ashe smiled, dipping a stegosaurus into his ketchup. The holidays had been great, and it was nice to see his family again. But it was just as nice, to be home, to fall back into this happy, comfortable-but-chaotic routine the three of them had together. It was cozy, just predictable enough to feel safe, but not so predictable that they felt complacent or bored. 

It was home. 


End file.
